Eating For Myself, Or Indulging in Simple Pleasures

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Christiana Georgehttps://www.thetarttart.com/
Welcome to The Tart Tart, my not-so-tart take on food, writing, and photography. I decided to start up this sucker after repeated nagging from Chris, my fiance, who cannot understand why the sight of a farmer’s market would send me into ecstatic convulsions (okay, total overstatement. I can be quite the histrionic at times). With that said, my interests, though chiefly in food, also span fashion, design, literature, and photography. So don’t mind the seemingly non sequitur odds and ends I toss in posts at times.

Last week, Chris’s dad, a fanatical triathlete, was competing in the bike portion of a competition in Santa Barbara when he got hit by a car. When his mom called, absolutely panic-stricken, we were horrified. Luckily, the doctors determined that he would suffer no lasting damage, but Chris still decided to fly out to help take care of his parents.

I made the most of this unexpected autonomy. For starters, I swept, straightened, rearranged, and scrubbed… what? Are these not enjoyable activities to you people? No? Well, they aren’t to me either, but for some reason, there’s never time to get the chores out of the way when He’s around.

I also spent time with friends and caught up on the phone with ones I hadn’t talked to in awhile. And I went to the gym, multiple times! I also found myself lingering over meals, continuing to read long after I’d finished the physical act of eating. And finally, when it came to choosing what to eat, well, I had no one to think of but myself.

It’s not that I’m normally constrained in what I eat. Most of my meals are prepared for only myself—after all, for the majority of us, work and other obligations dictate our schedules, even when we work at home. But dinner, that’s always a shared affair. And when you’re preparing meals for more than yourself, you really ought to figure in the caloric needs of the other person, especially when that other person is a man (and is almost a foot taller than you). Yes, normally, dinners are a bit heavier than what I ended up making myself last week. And with meat.

Besides the times I ate out, dinners over the week can be broken into two categories, as follows:

Noodles. The ultimate comfort food. I would probably eat noodles every day if I could; the variations are endless.

For One Noodles

Spicy noodles with stir-fried green beans

For One Noodles

Udon noodles with eggs and tomatoes (For me, eggs and tomatoes is perhaps the ultimate comfort food.)

For One Noodles

Burrata. I’d bought a container of burrata right before Chris left—and gleefully consumed all of it on my own. Renditions included:

For One Salad

Pizza with caponata and burrata

For One Pizza

Apologies for the splatters and generally unruliness. These photos were taken impatiently, right before I tucked in.

What kinds of foods do you like to make for yourself?

(Breakfast, by the way, nearly always consists of Greek yogurt with granola, a squirt of honey, and whatever fruit I’ve got on hand. Along with a generous mugful of coffee from the French press. I am a total creature of habit.)

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